Morpheus calling
by Kalrani
Summary: Clark is just dreaming, right? Even though his other dreams never made him feel this good. CLEX slash


Disclaimer: Alas, the tragedy here is writ…I do not own Smallville, nor any of its characters, so please don't sue…'cause I'm a very poor college student.

Rating: R

Warning: This story will definitely contain SLASH of the male/male kind (not explicit). So, no flames please! (unless it's about how the story is written, not the content) Yay for yummy fluffy Clexness!

Summary: Clark has been dreaming…but is it just a dream?

A/N: Thanks so much for clicking on this story…which is the first I have ever put out there…be gentle (lifts eyebrow) unless you like it rough? cringes (because that was corny, even to her). Smiles brightly...well, on with the show

**The Calling**

Clark was dreaming. He knew this as intuitively as he grasped his alien heritage…it just was, and it was true. Besides, the fact that he normally didn't play around in dark, endless voids was a major clue.

He had had dreams like this before…all starting just as strangely. He had dreamt of his planet, Krypton. The first night had started with blinding colors, then shapes molded with his own hands, then angles coming together to form beautiful cities, wildlife, and fauna. Then, the people and the technology had become…through voices that haunted his waking hours. Later, the traditions of his people had awakened through feelings that tore him up inside with desire.

Yet, he had also had prophetic dreams as well, composed of brief images, and impressions. He had dreamed that the sky would rain fire down on his beloved home, causing destruction and pain…and that he would be helpless to stop it, caught up in something equally important. But, the what and when always eluded him. The urgency of the dream had made him restless for weeks.

If he had believed in Freud, he would have thought it was his Id trying to escape the confines of his mind to help him…or fuck with him.

He never truly understood what exactly prompted his subconscious to flare up, but he let it have free reign…and found himself alone and naked. He shrugged, weirder things had happened. He was completely alone, as he had always been. He ached, longing for something that was always just out of his reach.

He shivered suddenly, a chill running down his spine. "Hello? Who is it?" The echoes rattled in the distance. He concentrated on his hearing, heightening it. Nothing…there was nothing there. "So why do I feel like I'm the object of someone's gaze?"

He could feel it—another person's warmth blanketing him, a sense of presence that seemed so familiar but just escaped his ken. He relaxed slightly, something about that person was comforting, safe, strong. There was no ill will, malice, or violence directed towards him.

But, he was still unsettled.

He could feel the weight of intense eyes on him—wanting, needing something from him. For the first time, he felt vulnerable without the presence of shiny green meteor rock. It scared him….but strangely, he didn't feel afraid. Instead, he felt…anticipation. He closed his eyes for a second—concentrating on finding the source…the man. 'Why do I think, believe, it's a guy?' His brow furrowed in confusion. 'Is it-?'

"Jor-El?" He called out softly.

"Wrong." A warm breath caressed his ear, and Clark heard a deep, velvety voice behind him. He tensed, unsure. He felt a strange drugging lassitude. "How did you-?"

The man chuckled softly. "Your superpowers right? Well, let's just say you can't rely on brawn alone Clark, especially here…where you are your truest self. Human and alien combined. Emotion," Here, strong, lean arms wrapped around him tightly, pulling him up against a hot, bare, silky smooth chest as the owner nipped lightly at his nape, "…and intellect." The man captured his chin, and met his lips.

Clark moaned, his mind reeling from the intimacy that felt totally _right_. That made him completely accepted for the first time in his life. That gave him a haven to just let go, trusting in someone else's strength for a change. There were no secrets, no lies to keep track of here.

In the back of his mind, he was surprised and slightly shocked at how quickly he surrendered to the stranger's lavish attention…soft, reverent scrapes of teeth followed by wet tongue, short nips, cool air contrasted with warmth, teasing touches by long, elegant hands. His back arched as firm hands caressed their way up his chest, worshipping him. He could feel the stranger—hard, hot, heavy against his back. Clark panted harshly, fiery sensations racing through him, out of control with pleasure so strong he trembled.

The sultry voice began once more. "That's right, my own. Let go. Beloved, let me have you. Let me love you until you scream. Clark, Kal-El, say you are mine. End my torment. I need you so. I'm burning; I've waited for you for so long…" The voice broke, full of anguish and sincerity at the time lost.

"W-who are you?" That was all Clark managed to get out as the wicked hands slipped lower, past his waist; finally, touching him where he needed it most.

"I am your mate." Gentle squeezes. "Your lover." Long, smooth strokes by pale hands. "Friend." Hard, achingly slow movements of the hips behind him. "Confidant." The pace increased as they grinded together. "Protector." Soft kisses. "I will never reject you. I promise." Their pleasure coiled tighter and tighter.

"Please! Make me yours!" Clark keened desperately. 'soclosesoclosesoclose'

"Whatever you want love." The man smiled into his neck. One hand left Clark, and rested along the curve of his hip, flipping Clark around & anchoring them both. They both moaned, loudly, control fraying. "Look at me Beloved."

Clark opened his eyes slowly, looked into familiar ice-blue eyes, and smiled. They stared deeply into each other's eyes, masks down, as Lex made them one.

A/N: Don't know whether or not I'm going to expand this…maybe I'll make another chapter, depending on interest. Anyways, hope you enjoyed!

Purty please, review big puppy dog eyes


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